Happenstance
by WAR-Operative
Summary: The ThunderCats never knew there was so much to learn about themselves. . . and most of it was found out entirely by happenstance. Drabbles, oneshots, and prompts. Each chapter features a new prompt and character focus. Suggestions welcome!
1. Illiteracy

**Happenstance  
**

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. If I did, the second season would have been out already, and I would be all over that like white on rice.

**Author's Notes**: Hi, everyone!

WAR rolling by again. Here we have it, I am rolling out something new. Happenstance is going to be a lot of one shots and drabbles. Each chapter is going to feature a new character (or characters) and a new prompt. Suggestions are welcome. OC's may occasionally be present just to grease the gears. Echo may pop in from time to time just to say hi.

Each chapter may take place at a different time in the storyline of the 2011 season.

But I figured I would roll out something new for myself, too. Gotta give myself a break from writing that big monster I'm tackling!

So yeah, give me your prompt ideas! I'd love them!

**For this prompt: **

Kit and Kat were raised on a farm. They were dirt poor. I kinda just took liberties with it! I figured, with poverty comes no education, as they'd be needed to help with the farm.

Also, some fluffiness. There is _not _enough fluffy moments of these three running around. Expect more.

* * *

**Illiteracy **

"To the uneducated, an 'A' is just three sticks."  
-A.A. Milne

* * *

It was their dirty little secret.

It was hard to imagine that she and her brother even _had _secrets - they were kittens, after all, and thieves on top of that. The only secret they really shared (and _secret _was a relative term) was they were runaways. It was unspoken bond between her and Kat that they wouldn't talk about their mother. It would only make them sad, wondering if she'd died from a broken heart. . .

But this secret was far more bearable.

Kit peeked around her, contraband hidden cleverly against her backside. The pack she wore over her back had a small strap on the inside - and that was where she'd secured it. The rest of the group was out, Cheetara, Lion-O, Tygra and Panthro having traversed into town to buy more supplies. Like usual, they had been left to "_guard the Tank_."

Rolling her eyes, Kit clambered on top of the tank and pulled her bag off of her back. Really. If the "adults" didn't think they saw through the ruse. . . well, they had another thing coming. Settling her stolen goods on top of the sun-warmed metal of the tank, Kit rapped her knuckles on the top hatch.

"Kat! I got us something!"

She was the only one who truly fed this habit. When the older Cats had left, Kit had invited herself along with them, hiding in the brush of the forest. She'd crept into the outskirts of town, swiped what she'd come to get, and had hightailed it back to the tank.

Within seconds, Kat popped out, lifting the hatch.

"What? Where did you go, I was. . ." He trailed off, looking at her goods, and then back up to her, ". . . Kit, why? I don't wanna try anymore. It's boring."

"No, it's not. Cheetara says that well-educated Cats are a benefit to society."

Kat hopped out of the tank, leaving the hatch open behind him, a smirk on his face.

"And Tygra says thieves get their hands cut off."

Kit rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. C'mon. I got it, so let's look at it anyway! Maybe stuff about El Dara will be in there."

Kat gave in and settled down beside her, and together, both of them stared at what Kit had stolen.

A book.

A brand new, never-before-read book.

Kit's happy smile quickly transformed into a frown as she opened the cover to the book. Pages upon pages of text.

"I thought. . . I thought this one would have more pictures!" She said, thumbing through the pages rapidly.

"What's the point of stealing a book if we can't read it?" Kat grumbled, propping his chin in his hands.

Their terrible secret.

They were illiterate.

Born and raised on a farm, to poor parents, Kit and Kat had never been given the opportunity to go to school. Kit remembered how limited in education their mother had been, and she'd only learned to write her name in the dying light of the fireplace one long night ago. . . and that was all she knew how to write.

Kit sighed, joining her brother in his solemn mood. Nobody knew they couldn't read or write - and really, what reason had there been to bring it up? Kit and her brother were with the king and his crew to help stop Mumm-Ra - and find El Dara. There was no reason to teach young kittens to read and write.

"Maybe," Kit said, flipping the pages a little more slowly, "Maybe if we look at it-"

"What in Thundera are you two doing?" A deep voice boomed.

Kit nearly jumped five feet in the air, and beside her, her brother did the same thing. She whirled around, and both of them found Panthro, climbing up the side of the tank.

"P-Panthro! We were just-" Kit protested. _Where's Lion-O and the others?_

The big cat was a lot faster than he appeared. He reached over and snatched up their stolen goods, easily holding them aside as he flipped through the book.

"Panthro!" Kat cried, jumping up and trying to fish the book out of Panthro's hold, "Give that back! It's ours!"

"Yeah!" Kit joined in, trying to climb up onto the cat and grab the book that way, "You can't just take it from us!"

"Why in the blazes are you two reading a book about cartography?"

"Cartta-whatta-whatta?" Kat asked.

Kit, at this point, was perched on Panthro's shoulder, her arm vainly stretched out to grab the book. She peered down to stare at Panthro's face.

"What's catography?"

"_Cart_. Car-tog-raphy. It's mapmaking. never figured you two would be the type to read this drivel. It's dry as a bone."

"Uhm, yeah. That's us." Kit nervously chuckled.

"We love maps! It'll take us to El Dara. We read it was in there." Kat continued.

Panthro stared at them blankly.

"This is a cartography book centering on the northern mountain ranges." He said, voice deadpan.

_Uh oh. Caught red handed._

With a sigh, Panthro reached behind him and picked up Kit by the back of her shirt and deposited her in front of him.

"I thought I heard one of you crawling around in the underbrush. Alright, come clean. Why did you steal this book?"

"We already told you!" Kat said, voice defensive.

"It says El Dara's in there!" Kit finished.

Panthro looked at them, to the book, and then back to the twins.

"You two can't read, can you?"

"What?!" Kit exploded indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest, "How dare you!"

"Yeah! We're not stupid, of course we can read!" Kat said, glaring up at Panthro.

"Uh-huh," Panthro said, eyebrow cocked, "Then tell me. What does the title say?" He offered the book out to them.

Kit felt the little balloon of defiance pop inside of her. Beside her, Kat hesitated just a second too long, and their silence was all the answer Panthro needed.

"That's what I thought. Lousy thieves you are, stealing books you can't read. Sit."

"Beg your pardon?" Kit asked, staring up at Panthro quizzically.

In response, Panthro pointed to the side of the tank.

"You heard me. I told you to sit."

Reluctantly, Kit obeyed, seating herself, suspicious. Kat echoed the motion, distrust in his gaze.

It surprised them both when Panthro inserted his hands in between them and created a space for him to sit down. He invited himself to sit in between them and opened the book on his lap.

"Thundera never woulda allowed two kittens like you to go around, not knowing how to read. I'm gonna teach you." Panthro said gruffly, selecting a page from the book.

Kit sat there, completely blown away - but a beat later, she smiled. She didn't even mind when Panthro semi-snapped at them to pay attention as he pointed to pieces of the book and began to explain it all.

Kit and Kat didn't even notice when the rest of the group returned, so sucked up into their new-found teacher and his studies they were. Kit didn't even mind that half of the content rolled over her head.

It was enough to know that somebody cared enough to teach them something.


	2. Hippocratic Oath

**Happenstance  
**

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. If I did, the second season would have been out already, and I would be all over that like white on rice.

**Author's Notes**: 'Sup?

Here's a drabble I've been meaning to write for some time. From what I understood, Pumyra was a medic and a soldier in the Thunderian army. If she wasn't, then she is now.

Pumyra's always been such an interesting character, and I can tell they lost time out on wanting to elaborate on her character. "I should have seen the signs!" Said Lion-O. . . uh, what signs, darling? There were none. More time definitely should have been spent on the puma. Anyway, it's short, but like I said, just a small drabble I've been wanting to write.

Thank you very much for the suggestions everyone! Things Echo-related will be branded as such, so if people want, they can skip those chapters. I'll more than certainly work on a few of these prompts soon!

**For this prompt: **

Just a chance to get myself into Pumyra's head. Nothing much else.

* * *

**Hippocratic Oath  
**

"But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty."  
-Lois Lasagna, 1964 ver. Hippocratic Oath

* * *

Pumyra collected sticks, efficiently brushing away the undergrowth as she retrieved fallen twigs. Their group had required kindling for a fire, and as night was rapidly falling, she thought it would be a good idea to go and get some.

It had also been a thinly veiled excuse to get some sorely-needed alone time.

The forest was quiet, something Pumyra was appreciative of. She needed time alone. Time to think about what she was doing. Deep, deep inside of her, a furious rage was burning, hot as the fires of hell itself. They'd abandoned her. When she lay dying, curled up into a tight, ball of pain, fearful of the coldness of death creeping up on her.

Pumyra wasn't afraid of much in this world, but the experience of dying. . . it had terrified her.

That was why she couldn't forgive them. She had called out, reached out to the lion. . . and he had walked away.

In her time of need, when she had been reduced to nothing more than a shivering kitten, he had turned his back on her.

Pumyra didn't have many friends in Thundera. She was a skilled medic - and an even better soldier. She had a sharp tongue, didn't take no for an answer, and she was quick-footed. Everything the army wanted and more. When Thundera had fallen, Pumyra had been the first to rush out the barracks and tend to the wounded. For every Cat the lizards killed, she brought down three reptiles.

But in the end. . .

Pumyra shivered, just remembering feeling the icy hands of death clamp around her heart and slowly squeeze.

_I'm doing the right thing. Traitors deserve to die._

She was dead. But she'd been given a second chance.

In the distance, Pumyra could hear the kittens squealing, laughing and crying out in excitement and delight. Pumyra turned back towards camp, sticks securely bundled in her arms.

She was a medic. She had sworn an oath that she would do no harm.

. . . But she had died.

And her honor had died alongside her.


	3. Accident - FOTE

**Happenstance  
**

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. If I did, the second season would have been out already, and I would be all over that like white on rice.

**Author's Notes**: Nothing too much. When I was writing this, I thought, hey, let's try this prompt on for size. Nothing too much here, just me writing from another Cat's POV.

**Note: **All chapters labelled, "FOTE" are part of the FOTE universe. Feel free to skip or read!

**For this prompt: **

People requested, and I delivered, I hope. This is the first time I've really slipped into Panthro's head, and it'll take me a while to get a hold on him, I think. But I know his type. I know how he thinks - I've been writing characters like Panthro before I even knew Panthro existed!

* * *

**Accident  
**

"I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal."  
- Jane Austen

* * *

Panthro knew a lot of things.

As the oldest member of the ThunderCat team, he'd been around the longest. He knew things from general experience, like, for instance, never break ranks during battle. Always trust Claudus to give you good counsel (albeit, it would be somewhat strict and cold), and most importantly, never, _ever_ pull pranks on the clerisy. Panthro had learned that lesson early on in his younger years.

But then the lizard wars began, and all innocence had been stripped from him.

He knew what the other Cats thought. That he was a little too jaded around the edges, too suspicious and unwilling to trust others. If any of them had seen the horrors of that war, though. . . Panthro knew it would be a different story. As it were, however, his time in the Thunderian army had given him a good sense at figuring things out. And he'd done a good job at that, thus far, concerning their group.

"That's enough, you two! Go play your games somewhere else!" Tygra snapped.

The young prince's voice brought Panthro out of his thoughts. He looked up to find the kittens running away, eagerly clutching chalk in their hands. They deftly hopped over to the tank, chuckling. Across the back of Tygra's armor, doodles and faces sprawled, all hastily scribbled.

"I think it's a good look for you, Tygra." Lion-O offered.

"Personally, I'm impressed. They were there for how long and you didn't notice?" Cheetara asked.

Tygra fumed, grumbling as he turned back down to his whip.

Currently, almost everyone in their camp was seated, taking tedious care of their weaponry. Panthro had already completed the task earlier, and he knew that cleaning his nunchuks more than necessary was damaging to the weapon. _Too _much oil could prove just as harmful as not enough oil.

In the distance, he could hear Kit giggling.

"I dare you to draw a face!"

Due to the acoustics of the clearing, Panthro could hear what she said quite clearly. He grew suspicious. Another lesson he had learned in his life - never trust kittens with minding their behavior.

"What if Panthro sees. . .?"

_That _got Panthro to his feet.

"Get away from my tank, you blasted kittens! That is _not _a drawing pad!" He growled, running over to the pair. Kit and Kat jumped back up and ran, squealing, into the forest. Panthro chased them to the front of the tank. . .

. . . which, in retrospect, turned out to be a bad move.

Panthro expected the kittens.

Instead, he got a half-dressed human.

Echo stared back at him, blue eyes wide with shock, until she finally recovered and made a startled noise as she dove for her clothing. She wasn't undressed, not all the way, but a considerable amount of her fur-less skin was showing. Panthro wasn't one to be easily embarrassed, butanything dealing with the female body was _so _out of his depth.

His mind wanted him to run, but his body refused to obey.

He didn't. . . He didn't know her skin. . .

Shaking his head forcefully, Panthro turned around, and that was as far as his feet would take him.

"I'm, uh, sorry. I was chasing the kittens-"

"It's okay," She said, quietly, "I know it wasn't on purpose."

Standing there, Panthro saw a picture of her again. And the soldier in him demanded he examine it.

So he did. All over her skin, old scars spanned. She even had one over her eye like he did, albeit her eye had not been robbed of sight. What bothered him was the scars. He'd seen many like them in his time being alive, and he knew what a blade slicing into skin looked like. No, that wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was the fact that a majority of them looked like _animal _attacks. Talons and teeth.

And that led to unanswerable questions.

Panthro didn't like mysteries.

And that's all the human was to him, really. A giant mystery. Mysteries meant people got hurt on the battlefield. Mysteries meant unknown variables screwing everything up. And that was why he hated them. Granted, Panthro was a fair Cat - he knew he couldn't hate the human. She couldn't remember why she was there, or even what had happened to her.

That wasn't her fault. . . or it could very well might have been.

He knew he'd never get used to her. Everything about her was too foreign, too alien. Her hair wasn't a natural color, her eyes weren't slitted, her teeth weren't sharp (some of them were. . . but they were even duller than a newborn cub's), she had no talons, and the list went on. Everything about her was strange, and just being near her made the soldier in him come to attention.

It certainly helped matters that she carried some freakish power that had the ability to manifest itself at her beck and call.

Behind him, he could hear quiet rustling as she got dressed again, and Panthro waited patiently. He would have left, but he had the feeling that the human had something to say.

Finally, the rustling stopped, and he heard the distinct sound of swords in their sheathes. That was Panthro's cue to turn around, and he found the human slowly buckling up the harnesses.

"Can you. . . not tell anyone?" She asked quietly, her voice uncertain.

He'd never really taken notice of her dress, before. He just figured she liked pants and long-sleeves. But now it made sense. She covered her scars well, and Panthro could understand why. If anyone else saw those claw and bite marks, they'd come to the same questions he had. Why? How?

"Yeah." He answered.

She looked at him, fearful, but tried to cover it up with a weak smile.

Silence stretched between them, in which the human fidgeted, and looked more and more uncomfortable.

"Let's, uh, go back to camp, okay? That sounds like a good plan." She started walking, not waiting for him to say anything.

Panthro stayed behind just a moment longer, his brain working.

He knew how to figure things out. He was good at it. And right then and there, he was figuring out a small mystery pertaining to the human.

She knew how to use swords - even when she had forgotten everything. Nobody had had to teach her how to clean them, either. She'd just known. This information Panthro had gathered secondhand from Tygra, but it was useful all the same. Additionally, the scars over her body told him of war. Like him, she'd seen her fair share of it. She also took orders readily, even though she didn't realize it. When Driller had been about to impale her, and he'd shouted at her, her body had moved with the instinct to obey.

So, that left Panthro with only one conclusion.

She was a soldier.

Panthro let out a thoughtful hum as the human quickly seated herself back at camp, deflecting a question Cheeetara posed her with a smile. No, he decided, he'd never get used to her. Her body was too different, she had a strange accent, but. . .

He let his gaze wander to the tank, where he found a crude likeness of himself, drawn with chalk.

Panthro growled, running into the forest.

"_You better hope I don't find you!_" Panthro roared.

Deep in the forest, two kittens squealed, running from their imminent demise.


	4. Bonding - Sort Of

**Happenstance  
**

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. If I did, the second season would have been out already, and I would be all over that like white on rice.

**Author's Notes**: I tried to catch a facet of Lion-O's and Tygra's relationship before Thundera's fall.

Not sure if I did. Doing my best to get into Tygra's head.

Cheetara stuff will be coming up next time! I have a good idea I finally want to run with.

**For this prompt: **

Just an opportunity to get into Tygra's head, really. He's emotionally constipated early on in the series.

* * *

**Bonding. . . Sort of.  
**

"You are a manipulator.  
I like to think of myself more as an outcome engineer."  
- J.R. Ward

* * *

Lion-O paced in his bedroom, scrubbing at his face. It had been a long day. A very long day. There had been the matter of politics he had been forced to attend to that day, courtesy of his father. He really hadn't wanted to, but he could only shirk so many of his duties before his father hunted him down and came at him with the wrath only a lion could muster.

Heaving a sigh, Lion-O finally dropped into an empty chair. On the table in front of him, Snarf opened one eye lazily and offered a quiet 'mraow.' Tired, Lion-O reached forward and scratched at Snarf's head. The pet let out a happy mewl and stretched.

"I just. . . I don't know what to do anymore, Snarf. Everything I do is wrong."

_My own father seems to hate me more than anyone else._

He felt like he was slowly drowning under the weight of it all. Nobody listened to him - to his "radical" ideas, or the way he felt, or his views in politics. He needed an escape from it all, from their pointed, sharp stares and their harsh, whispering words.

Technology was his only out.

For years, he'd been lost in his own little dreamland, silently wishing and waiting for his dreams to become reality. Soon. . . soon, he hoped.

"I think that's what most painful," Lion-O murmured to Snarf, "Is having hope."

With another dejected sigh, Lion-O reached down and brought up a bag of his contraband. If his father ever saw him with it, he knew he'd probably lose his title as prince altogether. His father had a way of letting his emotions get the better of him, unfortunately. _Just like me. . ._

He fell into a steady pace of dismantling his technology, cleaning it, examining it, and putting it all back together again. He lost himself in his work, and after a time had passed, Lion-O began to feel his worries leaching away.

That was, until, he heard a small rap on the doorframe.

He jerked up, surprised, and several screws and bolts hit the floor with a clatter.

Tygra stood there, looking at him, a bemused expression on his face.

"Playing with your toys again?"

Lion-O's almost-happy mood evaporated in an instant. He sighed, and began to pick up the fallen pieces of his tech.

"What do you want, Tygra?" Lion-O snapped, throwing down the small pieces on the table. He snatched up a screwdriver and went at it gain, movements sharp and exaggerated. He was in no mood to deal with his brother.

"Sometimes, I really don't think you're suited for the life of a prince," Tygra started, entering his room. Lion-o growled.

"No, really," Tygra continued, "You didn't remember half of the clan's crests, _or _any of their names for that matter."

Lion-O scowled, twisting a screw more and more furiously, but he refused to say anything.

"On top of that, you insulted half of them by not remembering their customs, and then when you called the leopard queen a lynx. . ." Tygra only _just _managed to keep himself from laughing.

The screwdriver slipped, and the head snapped. Angrily, Lion-O slapped the took down and glared up at Tygra.

"Yes, _thank you_, Tygra, for pointing out every _one _of my mistakes, like you _always _do!"

Tygra was silent, and Lion-O hoped that he would finally leave him alone. He turned back to his technology, and began the painstaking task of trying to take out the damaged screw with his claws.

And that was why it surprised him when Tygra pulled up a chair and sat opposite of him.

"I know it's hard, Lion-O, but you need to start actually _trying_. You can't live in your dreams forever."

The soft entreaty was actually quite a shock, coming from Tygra. Lion-O was used to harsh words and criticisms, and if none of those went through, a hard fist to the face was Tygra's next course of action. Not soft words. Lion-O looked at his brother, still shellshocked. Tygra crossed his arms and examined the young lion, expecting an answer.

Lion-O shook his head and turned back to his tech.

"This is easier. I get this. I _understand _it. I don't understand. . . that." He waved his hand airily.

Tygra understood.

"I know. It _is _hard. But blundering into it, blind, isn't the way to go about learning it. Get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," Lion-O said, begrudgingly, "I get it."

Tygra nodded. "Glad we got that out of the way, then. So. What do you think this does?"

Lion-O blinked at his brother, wondering if Tygra had been replaced by aliens. Normally he didn't act this way. So. . . _caring_. Lion-O stared at Tygra suspiciously.

"Who are you and where did you put my brother?"

Tygra held up his hands in mock surrender. "Don't get me wrong, Lion-O. I still think I'm much more suited to the crown than you are. But I thought it might do me some good to see why this. . . junk has you so wrapped around its little finger."

Lion-O smiled.

It was hardly a, _'because I care about you as a brother_,' but it was Tygra's way of saying it. Close enough. Lion-O gave another tiny smile before he opened the piece of tech.

"This is what I think powers it. . ."

And so Lion-O went over his technology with his brother, ecstatic that Tygra finally wanted to bond. . . sort of.


	5. Three Tenants

**Happenstance  
**

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. If I did, the second season would have been out already, and I would be all over that like white on rice.

**Author's Notes**: was thinking about what I should do for Cheetara's prompt, and for a while, nothing came to me. So I finally decided that I was going to do something involving her fighting in battle.

Because, half the time, battles involve Cheetara getting five seconds of screen time. She seems like such an incredible character, it's a shame she never gets explored, not really.

Also, can you guess the reference?

**For this prompt: **

Time to delve into made-up core values for the clerics!

So. . . tell me what you think. Did she do it?

Or didn't she?

* * *

**Three Tenants  
**

"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."  
- G.K. Chesterson

* * *

"_There is beauty in war. Nothing can parallel the elegance that you must bear to wield your arms._"

Cheetara held her staff tightly, wrist flicking as she twirled it. Lasers flew everywhere in the air around her, and she danced through them, her speed and agility unmatched. A lizard hissed as she drew close, but she whacked him with the end of her staff, he flew backward, sliding over the rocky landscape. Cheetara moved again, twirling her staff to prep it for the next blow.

She surveyed the battlefield, taking stock.

The battle would be short. The lizards, while having the Cats outnumbered, had broken ranks, and their morale had plummeted. Easy pickings.

"_You must remember this, above all else - the light that war lights is dark. It breeds nothing but hatred and contempt, and that is why the clerisy's core values must be kept even close to your being_."

One lizard caught her eye, and Cheetara stood absolutely still as she watched him.

"_Tenant one: You must never disgrace the clerisy's name._"

As a cleric, she had been ordered never to dishonor the clerisy. She was Jaga's only apprentice, and as such, she had a reputation to uphold. She understood the pains and suffering that Lion-O and Tygra endured. She had suffered with them. She was an ambassador for the king and the royal family when they required it of her, and it was her personal duty to ensure that the nobles were protected at every second of any day.

Any failure reflected badly on the clerics, and made the people question their security.

The lizard shouldered his gun, and hightailed it, booking it up a small, sandy dune.

Cheetara stalked him, footsteps hardly making a sound.

"_Tenant two: bring no harm onto the clerisy, directly or indirectly._"

The lizard seemed completely oblivious to her pretense.

Cheetara smiled softly, a dark edge to her expression. The lizard perched himself up on the dune, and aimed his rifle.

His target?

Lion-O, still fighting his own battle.

The lizard was seeking to take advantage of the confusion and assassinate him.

. . . _Not while I'm around._

Cheetara raced over, and in a flash, she'd whacked the gun out of his hand. This lizard, however, seemed to know she was coming, as he whipped a knife out of a sheathe and swiped it up at her. She dodged, and twirled her staff, disarming him. The knife flipped into the air, and with practiced ease, Cheetara caught it.

The lizard squirmed under her, mouth moving as a silent plea escaped him.

Memories flashed through her mind, as she remembered the fall of Thundera.

She had almost failed once.

. . . she had almost let them all die.

_I can't let the same thing happen again._

She lifted the knife.

"_Tenant three: you must never spill the blood of an innocent._"

With a decisive flick, she brought the knife down.

The battle quieted shortly after, and Cheetara joined the rest of the Cats.

Panthro was sheathing his nunchucks as she approached, and he cracked his neck and stretched.

"Lizards are losin' their touch."

Tygra holstered his gun, examining her. Cheetara didn't miss the way that his eyes narrowed as they landed on her hands. Cheetara scrubbed at her pants discreetly, wiping away the trace amounts of blood.

"Run into some trouble?" Tygra asked quietly, "That doesn't look like your blood."

The cleric smiled at Tygra.

"No. No trouble at all."

Tygra eyed her suspiciously as she walked over to the tank, intent on washing herself up.


End file.
